


Out of first dates

by Ulqueleh (Ulquii)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Asking Out, First Dates, Keith is a Tease (Voltron), M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Shiro (Voltron), Pining, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Shiro (Voltron), Shiro (Voltron) is a Mess, they're in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:41:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27693593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ulquii/pseuds/Ulqueleh
Summary: And that's how he managed to gather the courage to ask, Keith's face flushing gorgeously in the last light of the sun in the day before an affirmative came as a whisper.—Or the one where Shiro is nervous about his first date with Keith and manages to ruin everything. Or maybe not everything.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 67





	Out of first dates

**Author's Note:**

> This originally was for a drabble but it came out very long and then I forgot about it and that it was finished and that I haven't posted it.

There's a knock on his door and Shiro rushes through his apartment. 

He is a total disaster. He had slept through his six alarms, his exhaustion from the all-nighters he had pulled the last week before catching up to him that very important day. He had woken up 10 minutes before 5 p.m. and he had tripped to the bathroom for a quick shower that didn't even wash the thin cape of dry swear and grim that had settled during the day under the heavy covers of his bed from his 14-hour-straight nap. 

Shiro knows the only person to blame is himself, because going to sleep at 3 a.m. after going almost seven days with at most 4 hours of sleep a day, with just caffeine and sugar as only fuel, is all his fault. He could've gone to bed at 10 p.m. but Matt had called him at 9 or so and kept rambling about his new invention and the alien he had started dating until almost 12. Then, Shiro had been hit with a notification of a report he had to fill out for Monday, and he thought "why not?" instead of going to sleep and leave his work hanging until Sunday night. 

In all true, Shiro was nervous. He couldn't sleep thinking of what was coming the next day, he needed to keep himself occupied to not slip into an anxious oblivion. That's why he kept listening to Matt, why he kept working although he needed to rest. That's why he didn't mention a single word about the date to his best friend in the call, because he knew Matt would make questions and insist and finally tell Shiro, ‘it was about damn time, god, Shiro, you waited YEARS for this.’ 

Shiro didn't need Matt to remind him his years-old crush. Didn't need someone to rub it in his face that he could've done the asking-out weeks, months, or even years ago. 

But they were at war years ago, and then they were rebuilding Earth months ago, then there was nothing else but waiting for something to go wrong that last weeks. It didn't, luckily. But Shiro couldn't help it. He was too used to being at war that being in peace was more about waiting for more war rather than enjoying not having to fight for his life any time soon. 

And then that blessed day a week ago happened. That blessed day when he had some free time and went to the roof to watch the sunset, being very aware that the week to come was going to be a hell of paperwork and meetings and briefings, and that he really deserved a time to breathe fresh air before drowning himself in work again. 

Then he froze despite the lingering warmth of the late summer. 

Keith was there, he realized after staring at his back turned for too long, and when Keith looked over his shoulder with the start of a scowl in his face for being interrupted in what Shiro knew was the little free time he had as a senior Blade, Shiro smiled at him, noting how his expression softened and went sweet when he recognized Shiro. 

Then they were looking at the sunset, just like the old times, and Shiro realized how much time he had let slip from his fingers while working instead of doing what he liked, which was spending time with his best friend, Keith. Warm, beautiful Keith. The man that had saved him so many times Shiro was sure he owed all the lifetimes he was meant to live in all the universes to him. 

And that's how he managed to gather the courage to ask, Keith's face flushing gorgeously in the last light of the sun in the day before an affirmative came as a whisper. 

Shiro's not sure how he made it from the roof to his own room, he's not sure how the heck he kept himself from touching Keith's hand, threading his fingers on his hair, hug him close and press a kiss on the cheek- But he didn't. Like a gentleman he knew he was and like the stupid teenager-with-his-first-crush-like he was starting to notice he was. 

They had agreed on the date and other stuff through messages, because Keith was scheduled to leave that very night to a reliving mission off-world and Shiro had a lot of work to do during the week. 

Shiro had eagerly planned everything —from the very smile he'll give when he would open the door of his room to Keith when picked him up to the hoverbike ride to their spot on the dessert to the first kiss he wanted to share with him under the stars. 

He had made reservations at the only fine place that was open after war and then had cancelled knowing that even when he wanted to give Keith what he deserved, which was only the best, both of them would feel terribly out of place in a fancy restaurant. Instead, he had asked Hunk to help him cook something for both of them. He had thought of searching for a cute blanket he had stashed somewhere for both of them to sit on for a picnic in the desert. 

He thought on buying flowers, too, just a couple of hours before the agreed hour to avoid having them whiter before the date. 

It was perfect. 

And Shiro just ruined it all. 

He ruined everything just because he couldn't manage his nerves like the adult he was and instead cowered from his thoughts by overworking himself. He had slept for more than half a day in one sitting and had woken up just 40 minutes before Keith would walk up to his door, which left him barely time to get himself ready, to open said door with his hair a wet mess, his tie crooked, his jacket forgotten in his bed and without shoes. 

He didn't go to retrieve the food from Hunk's room; he forgot to search for the blanket; he didn't buy the flowers he wanted to give Keith so bad. 

But Shiro had made this to himself, so opening that door like the mess he was in that moment was the only thing he could think of just because he didn't want to make Keith wait. 

They both had waited too long. 

"H-hey, sorry for-" 

Shiro stopped on his tracks, his words halting and smile wavering in nervousness at Keith standing on the other side of the door. 

Shiro was well aware Keith was unfairly attractive, a pang of jealousy and possessive pull bugging his heart every time he found Keith being flirted with. It happened a lot, and every single time Shiro was reminded that he didn't have any right over who Keith would or wouldn't date. Keith was free to choose whichever blushy cadet or smug alien he liked, and the only thing Shiro actually had say in it was let him know he was part of the options. 

So yeah, Shiro knew how gorgeous Keith was. Not only to himself. Nevertheless, Shiro was overwhelmed by how _different_ it was seeing him in a daily basis —with his Blade uniform, or the Garrison-regulated clothes, or his paladin armor— and in what Shiro could only describe as dating attire. 

He had his issued red t-shirt that looked soft to the touch and hanged low under his collarbone, with a black leather jacket over it despite not being fall yet. He wore tight black pants and black military boot that Shiro could tell were new and not the ones he always uses. His hair was tightly braided over one side and as unruly and disheveled as it normally would on the other. But what caught Shiro off-guard was the huge bouquet of flowers in Keith's hands. 

"Hey," Keith regarded. 

Shiro gaped, looking up to him and down to the red and pink cosmos again, and thought grimly of the bunch of red roses he didn't have time to buy but wanted to give Keith that very night. 

"I-" he tried, feeling too breathless, "That's-" 

Keith looked at his stiff hand gestures to the bouquet, and glanced up to him again, and was that _eyeliner_ \- 

"For you?" He asked rather than said, shaking his head a second later and shoving the flowers to Shiro's chest a bit too hard, "I-I mean- _For you_. They're for you." 

Shiro blinked at them and somehow made his hands work enough to take them from Keith, their fingers brushing. 

"Thanks," Shiro whispered, too low and dreamy, and Keith nodded, shoving his hands to the pockets of his jacket and looking away. 

He even had the audacity to blush. 

"No problem." 

But that wasn't right, because Keith had brought Shiro his favorite flowers. Keith had _remembered_ Shiro's favorite flowers from that one time he mentioned it from before Kerberos and had bought some for him. 

And Shiro was empty-handed and very stupidly in love. 

“So,” Keith prompted, something terribly eager in the glint of his eyes, and Shiro felt breathless. 

"I- I-" he stuttered, half turning to his kitchen and stopping himself before leaving Keith in his door, "Do you want to come in for a bit?" 

It was weird to ask that kind of thing to his best friend. Keith was always welcome in Shiro's quarters and he was aware of it, sneaking into Shiro's bedroom every time they wanted to have dinner together or watch a movie, or maybe get some work done in the company of the other. It was weird to ask when Keith would always just follow Shiro in without prompting. 

But this time it was different, Keith lingering carefully on the hallway, and the thought made Shiro's blood boil. 

"Sure," he murmured just before stepping in, Shiro stepping back when he noticed he was kind of blocking the entrance. 

"I'll put these on water," he excused himself, turning to the kitchen and searching for something he could use as a flower vase. 

Of course he didn't have anything like it, so he opted for a large bowl he sometimes used to serve popcorn, filling it with water and putting the cosmos awkwardly leaned over one side in the shallow the bowl, obviously not for this specific use. 

It was until he had settled the flowers in water that Shiro stopped to actually admire them, brushing his thumb over the petals and relinquishing on the velvety softness. It was too much. He felt so tender and happy. 

"You're not ready?" 

That snapped Shiro out of his daze, turning to Keith over the counter, his eyes wide and beautiful and a bit amused. It made him aware that no, he wasn't ready, and he still had to put on shoes and find his jacket and maybe he was overdressed for this occasion, seeing how casual Keith looked, but maybe he was underdressed, given how _perfect_ Keith looked. And, well, Shiro still had to think of a plan B for the date. 

"I..." he started, clearing his throat and then letting out breathy laugh, "Not really. No." 

Keith mouth curved to a knowing but shy smile, and Shiro could only stare. 

"So..." Keith prompted, looking away to where Shiro's bedroom was, and then back to his eyes, "Are you going to...?" 

Shiro flinched, averting his gaze to the ground and wincing at his socked-feet, feeling himself blush. 

"I-I- Yes, I'll-" he stammered, red-faced and stupid, and ran to his bedroom without sparing a glance to Keith, knowing full well he had an amused grin on his face, "I'll be out in a minute." 

"Okay." 

Shiro closed the door behind him, rushing to get his shoes on and snatch his jacket while thinking what they could do for the date —maybe just getting take out from the dinner near the base and going to their spot in the hoverbikes to have a picnic, blanket be damned— he dried his hair messily with the towel, brushing it with his fingers instead of reaching for the brush, and he liked enough how it looked, somewhat classy but effortless. 

When he opened the door, he found Keith fidgeting with his fingers over the counter of the kitchen and Shiro admired him and his slight blush for a second. 

"Ready," he announced getting out of his room, Keith looking up and giving him a smile, "Should we go?" 

Keith didn't answer, stepping away from the counter and, to Shiro's dismay, standing right in front of him. 

And still not saying anything, just looking into Shiro's eyes and down to his clothes. 

"Keith?" 

"Just..." 

Shiro almost startled when Keith reached for his tie, undoing the knot carefully and then re-doing it, his eyelashes fluttering over his cheeks while working. He pulled it a bit to tighten the knot, and Shiro almost follows it, stopping himself just before leaning over his space. 

"There," Keith muttered, brushing his fingers down to Shiro's chest and then looking up at him, "Ready." 

Shiro nodded, even when it wasn't a question. 

"Ready," he echoed and forced himself to put some distance between them, "Should we get going?" 

Keith smiled, his hand finding Shiro's, and then turned away from him to the front door, leading the way. 

And, well, despite everything, out of first dates it turned out to be the best Shiro has ever had. 

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject) (including the [LLF Comment Builder](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/commentbuilder)), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates responses, including:
> 
>   * Short comments
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>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
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> If you don’t want a reply, for any reason (sometimes I feel shy when I’m reading and not up to starting a conversation, for example), feel free to sign your comment with “whisper” and I will appreciate it but not respond!
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